


Uhr ohne Stunden

by StormXPadme



Series: Join me in death [3]
Category: Elisabeth - Levay/Kunze
Genre: Angst, Bathing/Washing, F/M, Hair Washing, Hurt/Comfort, Massage, Oil, Oral Sex, Prostate Massage, Sophie Friederike von Österreich, Sophie is Death's and Elisabeth's child, Wing Kink, grown up!Sophie, raised by him in the underworld, sophie friederike of austria
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-06 19:54:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19069555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StormXPadme/pseuds/StormXPadme
Summary: Death has to answer for his decision to make Elisabeth his equal, while Elisabeth finally starts bonding with their daughter.





	Uhr ohne Stunden

**Author's Note:**

> I'm no native, please be patient with mistakes. Will gladly correct whatever error you tell me. This has way less plot than the summary makes it sound like. Really, this is just a lot of smut with some hurt/comfort thrown in between. Because those are my favorite genres and this fandom is always on the brink of death *okay I’ll see myself out for that one*, so I had to do it myself. Someone had to take the fall, obviously.
> 
> title inspiration: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fmVcXHY1egs

**_T_** he sensation that woke her up this evening was a just as foreign as welcome one … It was feather tips tickling her bare arms, her legs, her stomach … her quickly hardening nipples. The light cover was gone from on top of her, instead that thick, living blanket of her partner’s wings warmed her body. And in between her slightly spread legs, the smooth, slick intrusion of a cool tongue parting her folds, tasting her, licking the last traces of their game not too long ago off her. Out of inside of her.

The thought would have made her blush if she wasn’t all flustered and panting already, writhing and whimpering just second after getting somewhat orientated, one hand grabbing the pillow under her head, the other buried deeply in her lover’s golden hair. “Good evening to you too, my prince.”

 

She could swear she could see him grin at her even with his face buried tightly against her crotch, his lips definitely busy with … other things. With her butt cheeks firmly in his palms, he set up a torturous slow rhythm, thrusting into her as deeply as possible but without any haste, his tongue swirling inside of her, pressing up against that one spot deep inside that made her juices flow freely, until his chin and throat were covered in her scent, her hips bucking up wildly, her unashamed moans echoing through the halls of their chambers. With her being on the edge like that, he needed only two fingers easily slid into her wetness, pressing against that very same spot, to make her come fiercely, his name on her lips, a gush of clear, smooth liquid from inside of her suddenly splashing against his face, his shoulder.

 

With a whimper somewhere between embarrassment and lust, she pulled him up into her arms, a mumbled apology on her lips that he kissed away with a quiet chuckle. He tasted like her, and she shuddered in pleasure.

 

“Don’t you know how beautiful you are when you lose control like that, my queen?” He grazed her flushed cheek with his fingertips, still slick from her lust, and fondly watched her catch her breath. He was obviously, painfully hard against her leg but did not seem to be in a hurry in taking her, he preferred just watching her bask in her afterglow for now, the faint sheen of sweat as usual the only proof of his arousal on his otherworldly pale skin.

 

Elisabeth realized she wanted more of that. She wanted to share this sensation of pure pleasure fueled by her partner’s lust, by seeing him falling apart in her hands. Moreover, while Death had been enjoying himself in their nights so far, no doubt, she had no illusions about how little experience she had in this field, especially compared to someone who was as old as life itself. And how much more she could be and wanted to be for him, in his life, in his kingdom, by his side, as his equal … and in his bed.

 

“What’s going on in there?” His lips lingered on her forehead, soft as the tone in his voice, the honestly curious expression in his beautiful eyes. He did not read her mind anymore without asking beforehand.

Her hands threaded down his feathers, to the small of his back and lower, gripping his firm, round ass just as tightly as he liked to do it to her, and her intuition served her right. She felt him twitch against her leg immediately, his eyes closed for a moment, and when they were open again, they were wide with want.

 

“I want to know what you like best. And then learn how to do it.” She slowly moved her thigh up and down his length, stimulating him leisurely as she talked, enjoying the new rush of heat filling her crotch when he gasped. “Again. And again. Will you let me?”

 

“Like I could refuse you anything. Just …” His surprise vanished as quickly as it had come. Much to Elisabeth’s disappointment though, it was replaced by doubt. A next kiss to her forehead that was meant to wipe the frown off it, didn’t make it much better. “I have dreamed for decades about all the ways in the universe to make love to you, my queen. There’s enough ways to fill an eternity to enjoy each other, and then we will start all over again. There is no reason for hurry.” He gently took her hand and brought it to his face for a way too chaste kiss on her knuckles. “You’re only just learning what it is like to be treasured, Elisabeth. I don’t want to overwhelm you with something that is supposed to bring only joy.”

He withdrew from her hug completely, confused when she started to laugh, breaking the mood for good, slid down on the mattress beside her to look down on her, perplexed, still disheveled and buck naked.

 

He looked delicious enough to eat, but apparently, there was something she needed to get into his head first. And if words weren’t sufficing …

Without a second thought she sat up to kneel over him, push him back down, both hands firmly on his chest, her knees nestled in the softness of his feathers, while she slowly rubbed her still wet, heated crotch against his length, not taking him in, just teasing him. “Name _one_ occasion in my whole life when I was overwhelmed.”

Well, technically, there had been the day of her death, but her mortal life and its end were past now.

Her whole being was about life with him and in this world now, and she wanted to enjoy and celebrate every second of it. At least he was smiling again, but the way he thoughtfully ran his hand flat up and down her chest, barely touching her breasts, the other resting motionlessly on her thigh, still didn’t feel very convinced. If it wasn’t for the way, he was pulsating against her, she’d be seriously worried he’d lost interest. It was worry for her that kept him controlled and that honored him, it made her happy. He just had to understand that she was not made of glass. Maybe a compromise was what was needed here.

“I didn’t ask you to take me through hundreds of techniques in one night, was I?” Reaching for his hand, she guided it where she needed to feel it most right now and moaned out in relief when he started to thrust into her, slowly, opening her up. It didn’t take much before she was ready for him and could lower herself slowly onto his hardness until they both trembled and gasped. “Just … let me start making this really good for you. Please?”

 

Now it was him, laughing out, a sound mostly directed at himself, between quickly accumulating moans. “Next time you need to _beg_ me to get more adventurous in my bedroom first, you should probably hit me really hard in the head. Come here.” That last sentence was a quiet, yearning whisper only, one that she gladly followed.

His arms wrapped around her like his wings, embracing her in his strength, making her feel safe, taken care of, protected, all at once ... and holding her completely still without her feeling constricted in any way. His hand on her lower back kept her so close, she could feel him move against her most sensitive point with every single thrust.

 

Her hips twitched, once, twice, more from the overload of arousal than from an attempt to free herself, her nails dug deeply into his neck as she screamed out, before she went limp on top of him, panting. “That … was not exactly what I meant.” Not that she was complaining, certainly not as long as he could make her come in seconds.

 

“I know.” Death casually ran his hands up and down her waist, up to her breasts, flickered her hard nipples, making her whimper helplessly once more while she was still catching her breath. “But before you can start toying with _my_ body, my queen, you need to know your own in every detail. Once you do …” Grabbing her ass firmly once more, one cheeky fingertip rubbing slowly over her slick-covered rim, teasing the hidden hole there, he smiled up at her with such hungry eyes, she felt stupid for ever doubting he didn’t want any of this. Yes. They had more than enough time. “Then I will gladly teach you every single way to drive me crazy.”

 

“I take that as a promise.” She raised one eyebrow at him in challenge, and when he just nodded, chuckling, she freed herself from his grasp to sit up straight and slowly leaned back to rest on her arms, braced on his thighs, groaning and shivering when the new angle made his cock hit completely different spots inside of her. There was much for her to learn, indeed, but unless with every educational lesson she had to take in her mortal life, this time she would gladly devote herself to every step of the process.

 

Following her partner’s ravaging looks up and down her quivering body, she took one trembling hand off his slightly heated skin to reach between her widely spread legs, tentatively touching herself like she’d begun to experiment with in those nights lately when her partner had been out, doing his job. By now she knew how to stimulate herself with just a few touches, to the point where her muscles tensed, searching for any resistance, anything to fill that emptiness her arousal created. With him already deep inside of her, that clench sent her straight into orgasm, her muscles tightening up again and again, her hips jerking uncontrollably in his guiding hands, her moans of pleasure only drowned out by his as he emptied himself inside of her.

 

“You see, that’s what I was talking about.” It took him a moment before he could grunt out these words between his exhausted panting, but they were loving more than teasing, and when she fell back into his arms, his kiss soothed the last of irritation from before.

 

They had all eternity to learn.

 

 

 

 

 

He’d just finished dressing when it happened, while Elisabeth had barely had come as far as wrapping the simple thin cloth around her chest that she forewent her corsets for most of these days. The tight leather dress, just one of the treasures her lover had filled her cabinet with long before she’d arrived, was loosely sitting around her waist and she just tried to wrangle her way into the asymmetric sleeves, when Death suddenly startled heavily and nearly tumbled over, his palm pressed to his forehead. For long moments, he reacted neither to her worried questions, nor to her shy caress on his arm, and when her fingertips combed through his feathers, like she was already getting so used to, they disappeared between her grasp. In seconds he was back to his usual form, slightly thinner in appearance and a few shades less colorful in his aura. He suddenly looked very small, and worn, from how he’d fallen back down on the mattress without really realizing, his lips a tight line, his eyes unfocused. “I need to go.”

Elisabeth’s sudden bottomless fear must have shown in her face, or maybe in her mind, because he grabbed her hand before she could even think about stepping away, shaking his head quickly. “Not like that. What are you thinking, my queen? That I’ve taken you with me into eternity to leave you the morning after?”

 

“More like the eighth morning”, she added with an embarrassed laugh, nuzzling against his hand on her cheek to hide her blush. Yes, that was probably the stupidest thought she’d had ever since coming here. The man who had never left her side when she had been alive sure as hell would not do it now that she was finally his. But something had happened that had left him shaken. She doubted, he still was trembling from their game from before, no matter how great it had been. “What is it?”

 

“I need to answer to those who appointed me.” After a soft kiss to her forehead, he reached out in the direction of his own room and transported one of his favorite coats in here, the thick velvet, dark blue one, long enough to touch the floor, with a hood that revealed nearly nothing of his fine features. He was being uneasy. “To be honest, I expected this to happen days ago. I can only guess that they wanted to be sure you would be safe and comfortable on these grounds without me for a while. Not long”, he answered the new, uncertain question in her eyes. His hands, now gloved in thin black leather, were colder than ever on her cheeks, and she shuddered. “One of the angels will always be here to tend to your every need, my love. I will be back before you know it. This is just something I’m obliged to do to keep our lives here in order.”

 

“They didn’t allow you to take me here”, Elisabeth realized, less shocked than she should be after what he’d told her about his fall, about his wings, about these powers she knew so little about yet. Maybe she would actually be spending a few evenings to come with the angels instead of burying her nose in one book from the massive library in the attic after the other. They would have fewer scruples to talk about the dark side of this realm than her lover, about all the things he was not supposed to be doing and still defied regularly. For her.

 

“I didn’t exactly ask. Neither before making Sophie a demigod nor before making you my equal. I have always had these powers, I do need them to appoint the angels, after all. They were just never meant for this kind of use. The elders did not expect Sophie’s existence back then – hell, _I_ didn’t expect it, as you know – and from what I hear, they wanted to see how this would all turn out. That’s the only reason I didn’t get called in earlier. Now that you’re here, they finally want to carry out that slap to the wrist I’ve earned for making decisions that usually only they make.” He showed something like a small shrug, but his shoulders were tense. This was not something he was looking forward to. “That’ll be all there is. I’m much more stable and grounded than I used to be with you two in my life, and they know that. Nothing they can do about it now anyway. They’ll just want to prove a point. Nothing to worry about, my love, so wipe that frown off your face.” His kiss was fleeting, but as loving as ever. He would be back.

 

She could only hope that it would be without any further damage.

 

 

 

 

 

“Oh. You are here.”

 

“I’m happy to see you too.” Great. Elisabeth should just have eaten in her chambers. Death had advised her not to force time together on Sophie while he was gone. That was easy to say though, given that he wasn’t the one stuck here in this castle until knowing their way around the underworld, and unlike the two of them, relieved of the need to eat. Sure, both Sophie and her _could_ go without for quite a time thanks to the demigod nature of their bodies, but it simply made things easier to keep them in a human routine. And right now Elisabeth had just really felt like a big glass of milk over some fresh bread.

Not her fault that Sophie had apparently chosen to return from her current ferry travels with her favorite two angels this very minute.

She avoided every look at her daughter, just dully kept on spreading the content of one of those glass jars that the angels had brought from their last supply run, onto her bread – something with berries by the look of it – and shut up. Talking hadn’t gotten her anywhere with Sophie so far. She was getting tired of these looks of anger, disgust or sheer disinterest from her own child. Besides, her thoughts were otherwise occupied anyway.

Two weeks were officially over now, the moment she’d opened her eyes earlier.

 

“I don’t … hate you.” She startled when Sophie raised her voice again. She’d expected her to leave, wait until Elisabeth was done with her evening-breakfast so she wouldn’t have to stay in her presence more than necessary.

 

“Really. Because all that ignorance and growling in the hallway kind of left the wrong impression.”

 

After two weeks without any kind of notice but the continuous restless looks the angels exchanged when they thought no one was looking instead, apparently even the iron hard shell of her no-nonsense, pragmatic daughter began to crack. “I don’t even dislike you. I don’t _know_ you. And at the same time I do, better than anyone”, she added before Elisabeth could do as much as open her mouth to object. 30 years plus of watching her from the shadows should have been enough to get to know her.

Or maybe not. Maybe Elisabeth was assuming, expecting too much of someone who’d only met the impenetrable, aggressive veil of an Empress who’d lost everything before her life had even started.

“That’s not your fault. I know, life did you wrong and I know, your egoism was the only thing that kept you sane and alive. I don’t blame you for wanting to live. I just can’t start a life as your child like nothing happened.”

 

“Sophie, when did I ever _ask_ you to?” Elisabeth put down the knife without a sound, rubbed over her face with aching shoulders. She still couldn’t bring herself to turn, to get this small trace of hope crushed again by just another expression of poor disdain. “Nothing can undo the past, and we don’t get to relive the life together that was taken from us by my goddamn stupidity. I have no right to ask you for anything, don’t you think I know that? I just wish you’d grant me a shot of a future together, that’s all.”

 

The following silence was unexpected, and for a moment she was sure, Sophie had really vanished now, with the same nearly inaudible, floating steps her father doubtlessly had taught her.

The sudden insecurity and vulnerability in her beautiful deep voice nearly made Elisabeth drop her knife from her trembling hands. “Maybe spending some time outside father’s bed would have gotten that point across.”

 

It didn’t sound half as hurtful as such words could be meant, so Elisabeth tried not to get angry and rather busied herself with cleaning up and putting everything away. She didn’t like people seeing her cry, nothing had changed about that. “My impression was that you needed some time to process. Please, Sophie … Do not mistake my hesitation for a lack of interest. Whenever you are ready, I will be more than happy to spend as much time together as you want. Your father and me, we do have much to catch up with, that’s all.”

 

“I bet.” The smallest snort now, but at least it sounded amused. “And that takes priority, I get that. I’ve waited for you all my life, I can be patient for a while longer. A conversation about where to go wouldn’t get us very far as long as you don’t even know where you are, anyway. But Dad, he has been yearning for you long enough. Maybe try to actually care for him just half as much for once? In some ways that include clothes for a change, would be nice.”

 

“Okay, young lady, that’s enough.” Just as Elisabeth was spinning around, her legendary short patience betraying her, they both startled, rattled by a quiet, short scream somewhere outside – the scream of one of the angels. Elisabeth did not need to see the sudden fear in Sophie’s beautiful brown eyes, so similar to her own, to know that it had never in her time here been made before.

The sudden panic choking her blinded her sight, she hardly had a chance to actually realize that Sophie was wearing a huge pair of wings, same like her father’s in that last night they’d shared, on her back before she passed her by, running down the hallway.

 

In spite of not having spent nearly as much time in the underworld as the others, she had gone through enough in her life to overcome an initial moment of fear a little faster than her kid had, it seemed. However, Sophie wasn’t far behind when she left the huge withered gates of her castle behind.

 

In fact, her daughter was so close that she nearly ran into her when Elisabeth stopped abruptly at the sight of the figure splayed on the stairs in half torn garments, knocked out cold.

 

His back.

 _Again_.

 

It took her a moment to recollect herself … and to comprehend with resigned, angered clearness that she would be the only one on these grounds to at least half way have an idea what they were doing when dealing with the human, mortal side of a body. She snapped at Uriel to take his hands off her lover and bring a plain plank to carry him inside. “Tell the others to dust off one of the unused bedrooms. They shall bring alcohol and clean clothes. _Go_!”

It was the first official order she ever gave as queen of this kingdom, she suddenly realized, and she did before her lover had even officially announced her as such, but much to her relief, the timeless blonde man who seemed even a shade whiter than usual, just nodded and ran off immediately.

Her knees were shaking so badly, she more fell onto the ice-cold stone than sitting down next to him. She was afraid. What she would see, feel, learn when she came even closer, and afraid that she couldn’t handle it.

 

Only she had to because there was nobody else. The angels were his servants, not his friends.

 

And Sophie was still standing in the doorway, white as a ghost, her mouth slightly ajar, tears in her eyes.

 

Elisabeth suddenly realized that he had not told their daughter. Tales of entities that had torn you from the sky once and tortured you into insanity for every mistake was not something you wanted to talk to your kid about, even when they were long grown up. “It will be okay. It’s happened before. He will be alright.”

 

“How can you _know_ that?” Sophie stumbled a step closer, her hands clasped tightly in front of her chest, her wings twitching uncontrollably, but the sight of blood dripping down her father’s back, bathing the stairs down into the mortal world in red, made her retreat again immediately.

 

“Because we will be there for him”, Elisabeth stated calmly, and that she could say without a doubt. Death wasn’t going anywhere in days to come, and they would have to talk a lot about what they had done to him, but he would be back with her. She couldn’t allow herself any doubts about that.

When she softly put his hand on his forehead, it was a relief to feel his skin have the usual cool temperature. No fever. She doubted there was much dirt and poison even existing in the realm he’d just stumbled out from. She just would have to make sure that there wouldn’t be any coming into these gushing wounds now. “I’m here.” She gently pushed some sweat-damp strands of gold out of his face and kissed his forehead, then his lips, tasting copper.

 

There was one nasty slash from one of his beautiful high cheekbones down to the corner of his lip, probably where the leash had slipped, but it was hardly bleeding anymore. She hoped, especially thanks to his supernatural healing abilities, it would fade soon. About the other wounds she was not quite so sure, and that small, hurtful dart of guilt that was already trying to poison her heart would be festering the moment, she would be alone with her thoughts. But one thing she knew without a doubt … She could neither have stopped this nor him. Not giving up on her all her life and then making her his equal had been his decision. This, right here was the consequence he’d accepted, and at least from the outside, it seemed like it could have been worse. What they’d done to his beautiful mind that had overpowered him so much that he wouldn’t wake, there was no telling, but they would make it through this, somehow. Together.

 

“Together.” It was like her daughter’s and her thoughts had touched somehow, in a connection that they didn’t quite share – not yet, Death had been optimistic about that happening someday, though. Suddenly there was a small, cold hand on her shoulder, and shy fingertips wiping away tears Elisabeth hadn’t known she was crying. “We can make this, together, right?”

 

“We will.” Elisabeth turned her head just enough to brush Sophie’s skin with her lips and smiled, with tears, when her daughter didn’t pull away. It was a beginning, not more, but she’d take it.

 

The others had finally arrived so she stepped back to let them handle things for the moment and hurried into the room that Uriel led her to, to make sure there would be everything she needed.

This would be a long night.

 

 

 

 

 

Elisabeth had asked Sophie to wait outside, not only because the girl had already seen too much, but because the less potential carriers of bacteria and dirt were in the room, the better. She was surprised that her daughter had actually agreed, unwillingly but without resistance, but she was grateful for it.

 

In the bright petroleum light only, and after Elisabeth had washed off the first layer of dried blood, it started to show how bad this was. Most of the damage was between his shoulder blades. That strangely beautiful, terrifying, black net of wings he carried there probably wouldn’t look half as flawless in the future. She doubted he would mind, but it only proved the kind of force of whoever had carried out this punishment had treated him with. Half of the wounds were so deep that they were still bleeding. If she hadn’t been able to count Death’s high healing factor in, she was pretty sure she’d spontaneously have to remember how to sew.

 

As it was, she could limit her amateurish work to cleaning the wounds with a thick cloth and lots of alcohol before bandaging them tightly, hoping they would start to close up like the others. The ones that were already covered by darkish, rough patches of skin she didn’t dare open back up. Then she would probably have to search for a needle and threads after all, and she wasn’t even sure, metal could pierce her lover’s skin. She could just hope that the accelerated healing that his godly body was gifted with, would also take care of any infection.

 

It wasn’t immune against it, as it turned out. Next time she rested her knuckles against his forehead, after all of his wounds were wrapped up, it was heated.

 

“Oh, come on. Don’t do this to me now.” She must have spoken out aloud because when she came back with another clean cloth, moist with cold water, his eyes were suddenly open, dark and narrow with agony.

“Hey.” Her voice suddenly thick with tears, she knelt down next to the table that the angels had put the plank on, and softly ran her hand through his hair. “How bad is it? Want me to get you some absinth?”

 

She felt him shake his head more than she saw it. “Can’t get intoxicated, little dove.” He hadn’t called her that in a while, and never it had hurt that much. His voice was rough and shaken from the quick, shallow panting he tried to hide his pain with. “Just one of the things this body is deprived of. Did she see?”

 

It took her a moment to understand what he meant. She wished she could give him a different answer. “She’s shaken, but she’ll be alright. She’s just as strong as you are.”

 

Again this hardly noticeable, tired headshake. “As _you_ are, my queen. I didn’t mean to put this on you. I would have stayed in the limbo to heal, but they don’t like my face very much there right now. It’ll be okay, don’t worry.”

 

“You know, those are my lines.” She softly pressed her lips to his forehead and finally put that cloth on his neck, smiling, amused, when he startled and growled quietly. “Suck it up. You are heating up. This will make you feel better. Try to lie still please. You’re still bleeding.”

For a while, she just kept on kneeling there while he did just that, her hand softly caressing his cheek, his lips touching her skin from time to time, until his breathing had slowed down a little, and he didn’t feel that tense. Finally, the red spots soaking his bandages did not get bigger anymore, and Elisabeth dared to replace them with new cloths and tightly wrapped packs of ice on top that she had ordered from the kitchen.

 

Even that light weight made her lover wince once more when she put them down on the worst damaged spots, but the relief finally outweighed that pain, and he relaxed down on the smooth wood again.

“Thank you, dove”, he finally murmured when she came back once more, after thoroughly washing her hands off his blood. “Also, for not asking what happened.”

 

It was her turn to shake her head. After she had pulled a light blanket over his shoulders, so her daughter wouldn’t have to deal with the sight again, she bent down for long, tender kiss to his forehead. “You already told me. I trust, you would also tell me if there’s another wound that needs treatment.”

 

His smile grew bitter at once. “No. All they wanted to remind me of again was that choosing to be half-mortal comes with the same vulnerability that humans have. They have ways to drive the point home.”

 

“So what will you do then?” she asked quietly, her heart suddenly enclosed in a brutal fist of coldness. Maybe she only would go to see her daughter to tell her that they had to pack their things and leave.

 

“Enjoy every day of our eternity, little dove, just like I told them I would. What did you think?”

 

His smile was sad, disappointed by her doubt when she looked at him again, she just had to turn on her heel and bend down once more to seek his lips for a sloppy, awkward but loving kiss. “Then I will be there to catch you every time they decide to punish you for it, my prince.”

 

“I think we do have another thousand years or two before I slip up that badly again, my queen.” At least he could grin again, weak as it was, before he closed his eyes with a tired sigh, nodding at the door. “Can you …?”

 

“On my way.”

Elisabeth wrapped her shawl around her upper body, hiding the blood that had found its way on her dress, and then finally opened the door, throwing her daughter a genuine smile. “Come.”

 

 

 

 

 

“Thank you.”

 

Ironically, they met back in the kitchen where Elisabeth’s sandwich was still waiting for her. This time she’d made it to take half a bite before her stomach had decided she had seen more today than she had bargained for, and next thing she knew, she leaned over the sink and brought up the nothing that was in her stomach, tasting bitterness. She hadn’t done exactly well in the last weeks with keeping up that routine of eating and sleeping that Death had recommended to keep her mortal side steady and balanced.

 

When next she looked up after washing her mouth a few times, Sophie was standing behind her, holding her hair back. She still couldn’t quite make it to look at her mother and was pretty pale still, but there was the smallest smile on her lips. “Just … thank you. You were there when none of us could.”

 

Elisabeth tried to show a calming smile herself, as little as she felt like it, and gently pulled back to signal her daughter that she was fine now, to give her back her personal space that was so important to her. To both of them. “He’s pretty immortal, isn’t he? He would have made it without me.”

 

“Yes. But he’s got enough scars.” Sophie’s wings twitched shortly, harshly, like she couldn’t quite control them yet, especially when she was upset. When she saw Elisabeth’s glance over her shoulder at them, she blushed.

 

It was the first time she saw her daughter with such a human, mortal reaction, and her heart immediately expanded with all the love and yearning she had kept hidden so strongly in the last weeks, to not put pressure on the girl. It was hard, not try to reach out and touch her shoulder, broader from the weight of the wings, her cheek, defined sharply just like her father’s. They were far from that. But at least they’d made a start. “They are very beautiful. Did he show you how?”

 

“No, I’m a pretty good shapeshifter myself.” The blush deepened. “I wanted to surprise him with them when he came back. He was pretty much out of it again when I went to see him but I think he liked them.”

 

“I know he did. And he’ll be awake soon enough.” Elisabeth hesitated, not sure what else she could say at this point – what she needed to say. “Sophie … what happened to him …”

 

“Was his choice. I know.” Sophie chuckled at her baffled expression. “The angels told me everything. Also that this was decades in the making, and it started with me. So if you were about to apologize, you probably should start with being sorry for spending a night with father some 30 years ago. Or …” Her voice softened when Elisabeth immediately started to turn away, with pain, shame darkening her eyes. Nothing had ever felt as good as her daughter’s small hand on her shoulder. “Or maybe you can just accept that not everything is your fault just because you were somehow involved. It was … bad, seeing him like this.”

She swallowed and nodded, shortly, thankfully, when Elisabeth shyly pressed her hand. “But he did it for me … for us. We should honor that.” She only let go when Elisabeth nodded, a crooked smile on her lips that she _definitely_ had learned from her father. “Get some sleep. You look terrible.” She snatched the rest of the sandwich from Elisabeth’s plate and left, whistling quietly to herself.

 

And her mother returned to her partner’s room to keep an eye on him.

 

 

 

 

 

By the time Death came about, the last wounds had faded into sensitive red lines that would soon turn to white, some of them permanent, most of them not. He looked right at her when he opened his eyes, and his smile took the weight of a century off her heart.

 

They didn’t need to talk. She helped him sit up, fight his way into a wide shirt that she had brought and walk down the hall to their adjoined chambers, none of their steps watched by the angels or Sophie for once. She sat up a bath for him and undressed him, piece by piece, then herself. It was the first time that they used the huge marble pool he’d set up in the darkly tiled room between her and his bedroom, and it took her a moment to figure out what position would work best for his still healing body. Finally she sat back against the softly heated wall with her legs stretched out and had her lover sit in her arms, his head resting against her shoulder, his legs propped on hers. The steam and gentle massage of the warm water washed slowly away the last of sorrow and worry.

 

After a while she could feel him breathe much easier against her bare shoulder. A careful glance over his told her, the last of wounds were as good as invisible now. Now he just looked incredibly tired.

 

Definitely not a night that she’d let him leave for work in. But before she could navigate him into her bed, she wanted the last stains of his punishment off his form. With a little reaching, she managed to grab one of the soft sponges arranged on the edge of the tub and drown it in a bucket with soap right next to it.

 

Her partner startled a little when she carefully started to wash him down with the soft tissue, but it seemed to be surprise more than any kind of discomfort. After a brief moment of confusion, he relaxed right back into her arms, breathing deeply while she cleaned his back thoroughly and then made her way down to his slender hips, his delicate shape that so easily could betray the eye of a casual watcher for one of a woman. With the same thorough care, she tended to his graceful legs, every strand of steeled muscle hidden in his slightly stocky form, suited so perfectly for a predator attacking in the dark. His elegant, bony feet, so much more shaped for soundless, endless dancing than a strut of destruction.

Working her way back up, she left out some spots where she usually enjoyed touching him a lot because she didn’t want him to exhaust himself even more that night, instead she took her time stroking his softly defined chest, his strong, flat stomach, his shoulders that would never give away how much he could carry on them.

By that time, he was basically boneless, sighing deeply against her skin, so relaxed that the arm he didn’t have around her waist was loosely drifting on the surface.

 

So she dared to go even a little further, reaching into the bucket with her bare hand this time. Just as thoroughly, she began working the soap into his messy hair, straightening out every knot, washing out every drop of sweat, gently massaging his scalp until he was openly purring against her skin. Finally, she kissed his lips, briefly, and put her hand against chest to make him lean back so she could wash out the soap.

 

Instead, he ended up floating away from her, just a little, to the middle of the marble pool, his healed body stretched out motionless, his hair floating around his peaceful face, his eyes closed. With his arms stretched, his pale body glistening in the bright candle light, he was a picture of innocence she had rarely seen in him before, and it was breathtaking, completely without the need for his wings.

They were forming under him before she had even finished the thought anyway, gleaming blackness against her thigh, the mass of feathers lifting his body inches off the surface. The fingers pointed at her curled. Once, twice.

 

She came to him naturally as she always had, laying down by his side, letting the pure strength of his feathers carry her while she nuzzled against his chest. “You shouldn’t have. You need to rest.”

 

“Changing form is no longer exhausting”, he replied to her surprise, and yes, he sounded indeed stronger and more sober than all evening. “My powers have been strengthened after they’d been stripped away for two weeks. My choice for my family might not have been approved, but it is accepted now, so I have been given the power to continue this life, even though my body is more human than ever. That means, when I’m human, I’m more vulnerable than ever. This is what I chose. This is my compromise.” Finally, he turned his head to look at her. Tears were gleaming in his eyes. “The dying only get the deity. The human is all yours. As it always was.”

 

“And I will gladly give my life for this human, as often as it takes”, she whispered hoarsely. Straightening up, her feet pushing against the cool floor, she brought her arms around his chest and gently pulled him up, rested her forehead against his for long moments. “Thank you for doing this for us. I love you so much.”

 

He did not need to say it anymore but still did, still with those kind of tears in his voice that could never hurt. Then he hoisted her into his arms in spite of her weak protest and ever so slowly lifted them both in the air, out of the tub, to the door, before he sat her back down.

 

His arms were trembling by then, so she didn’t give him a chance to do something stupid like that again once they were through the door, but grabbed his hand firmly and pulled him to the bed. She didn’t let go until they were comfortable tucked in under her favorite blanket, her thigh around his hips, his head against her neck, their breathing one. “Sleep now, my prince.”

 

“You know that I don’t …” He didn’t. Not once he had said, he couldn’t.

 

“Tonight you will.” She ran her fingertips through his damp hair, again and again, massaged his neck, threaded through his feathers until she could finally feel him go completely still in her arms.

 

And only now she could finally cry.

 

 

 

 

 

“That was … weird.” When he woke up, the last of pain seemed to be gone, and he didn’t seem that detached anymore, but it was still a far more demure awakening than in those other nights when they’d spent half the time screwing the hell out of each other. The sleep was still thick in his eyes, his hair was a tangled mess somewhere in his neck, and it would have been adorable if not for the irritated thoughtfulness in his eyes. “How do humans do this, every night? Lose control over your mind like that?”

 

“Bad dreams?” She softly caressed up and down his neck, her circling fingertip applying some pressure when she felt the strain that the tortures of the last weeks had left.

 

“Memories. Long gone, at least until two weeks ago. Now I suddenly feel them.” He grimaced a little when she brushed over one especially tense spot but when she pulled her hand away, he took it and lead it back to signal her, it felt good, what she was doing, even when it hurt. Sometimes, maybe, especially when it hurt.

 

It gave her the courage to ask when she had not been certain she could so far. He could always stop if he wanted to. “You said, you killed those. Regrets left still after all?”

 

He seemed to need to think about the answer for a moment, but when it came, it was firm and clear. “No. I miss traveling the skies, but in the world humanity lives in now, there’s no place for a being like I was anyway. Maybe it was all meant to happen. For the things I did and beings I wronged, I suffered my punishment. And even if there was a way back now, I wouldn’t go it.” A tender, most chaste kiss on her unclothed shoulder made her shiver … and let go the breath she’d been holding. He meant it. He would never give up Sophie and her. When he turned his head back, he startled, his neck and back still so stiff that he was actually in pain. She couldn’t remember him ever showing a reaction to something as simple as sore muscles before. They really had not been kidding about his mortal form being a lot more vulnerable. And that probably was the only thing he found really annoying. “Still, some agony is so deeply branded in your mind, it will never go away.”

 

“No, it doesn’t.” She thought about her own scars, those that this half-immortal body fortunately was relieved off. She remembered how sometimes she still woke up and frantically felt her teeth with her tongue because she was sure, they’d fallen out in her sleep, or how sometimes she still thought she couldn’t breathe right though the damage she’d done to her organs with her corset. Phantom pain, sensations that left as quickly as they came, but for someone who wasn’t used to them, they probably were scary.

Maybe she could do something about that at least. “I’ll need to touch you.” She gently petted his shoulder to get him to move and rolled her eyes, good-mannered, when a dirty grin splayed on his lips at once. Okay, maybe Sophie wasn’t all wrong. “Not for that. Not now, at least. Lay down on your stomach. I’ll be back in a moment.”

 

Now she’d definitely made it to confuse him but soon enough he realized she was actually serious as she was getting up, throwing one his long coats over her nude form. She hoped, that light grey piece of clothing was enough at this time of the day. She did not want to lose time with one of those complicated dresses. And evidently, it wasn’t like the angels and Sophie weren’t discussing their sex-life as pure entertainment anyway.

At least the angels also did a really good job with keeping this place stocked up well for the half humans in here. Elisabeth really found all she needed in the kitchen. She went for a smooth, thin texture, mostly made of olive oil and arnica, quickly mixed it up in a plain metal vessel and hurried back to her bedroom, fortunately without running into someone. Maybe she should not add to her daughter’s already very vivid imagination about her nightlife in walking the hall barefoot, half-naked and with a big bowl of massage oil in her hands. She was pretty sure that would have ruined the baby steps the two of them had made earlier.

 

She was surprised to see that her lover had actually listened to her when she came back, something that filled her hearth with joy and affection so much, she had to stop and take a second when she’d closed the door behind her, locking the world out there out for another day. They both needed these hours for themselves, and as long as the authorities didn’t arrive here personally to drag Death’s ass to work, she wouldn’t let him go anywhere.

 

And he certainly didn’t look like he was in the mood for much preceding obedience either. He was laying unmoving, his ruffled feathers lazily spread out around his shoulders and arms, breathing calm and deep, and if it hadn’t been for their conversation before, she’d have to wonder if he was back asleep.

 

Leaving the bowl on the nightstand, she started unbuttoning the coat quickly, then caught his admiring, longing sight through his half closed lids and took her time with the last three, slowly brushing the sleeves down over her shoulder until the piece of clothing fell to the floor. The way, her partner shifted his naked hips on the mattress, his breathing already going quicker, brought the flush back into her cheeks, but she forbid herself acting on her desire. Right now, there were more important things to do. However, she showed him a quick wink and ran her fingertips down her naked chest for a moment, biting her lower lip, before she turned away, laughing at his little growl.

_Later, my love._

 

Maybe he’d heard the unspoken promise in her mind, because he still didn’t move, only let out a long sigh when she climbed the bed again, kneeling over his legs. But he watched her, and even from that weird angle, she could see the frown on his face, not disapproving, only like he couldn’t exactly make out what she was doing.

 

“What is it, master of the underworld?” She slowly caressed up and down his now broader shoulders, to his still quite slender waist, stopping just above the roundness of his ass. “So many people in your life you shared a bed with, so many things you’ve tried. Want to tell me you never had a back rub before?”

 

“Sexual relationships targeted tension release and adrenaline heights so far. A touch for other than that is new to me as you should know.” He shrugged a little, it looked as close to embarrassed as she’d ever seen him.

 

She couldn’t help it, he’d had that one coming. She just had to lean forward, her hands braced on the pillow, not on his back because she knew he was still hurting, and give his ear a cheeky bite before kissing away the shivers on his neck. “Your lovers were goddamn idiots.”

 

Before he could come up with a witty response, she finally dipped her hands into the bowl and spread a first fine layer of oil on the roots of his wings. Patiently, she started to flatten them out, smoothing every twisted feather, until the heavy fleece was pillowed around his arms as straight as they used to.

He was tenser than ever now, but judging from the way he ground into the mattress, sighing and occasionally purring, a sound he still would never admit he ever made, she doubted that it was out of pain this time. “This is very pleasurable”, he murmured when she paused for a moment, caressing through his hair, pushing it away from his neck so she could reach there. “I begin to see why you favor this form.”

 

“And I am not even half done with you yet”, she smiled but when he made a move to turn and reach for her, she sat back on her heels, down on his thighs, nailing him down on the bed. “Again: later.”

 

This time the growl on his lips was unmistakable, but it didn’t sound like anger or disapproval. In fact, it sounded a good deal aroused. “Feeling like taking the scepter tonight, my queen?“

 

She stopped coating her hands with more oil, frowning. Was that what she was doing? Was that what was necessary to get him to actually give himself over for once? “As long as my dark prince lets me have my hands on it”, she replied quietly, dipping one slick fingertip into the hollow right above his behind, shivering when she saw goosebumps climb up all the way to his neck.

Stories, rumors about techniques mostly being executed in relationships that counted as forbidden, scandalous in her dead world, suddenly lingered in her memory. She remembered how her lover had told her that he enjoyed being with men too, and that it didn’t matter to him which shape he took for that as long as it was good for both of them. And suddenly she decided, she didn’t need a textbook of anatomy or learn about hundreds of years of sexual development to try and find out how to drive her partner crazy. Maybe sometimes you just needed to listen to your intuition. And intuition usually served her well.

Just like he always tried to take it slow with her, to ease her into anything she hadn’t experienced yet though, she wanted to be certain that he would not be uncomfortable for even a second. So she started with what was the plan, spreading the oil slowly on his neck, his shoulders first. He hissed a little but did not flinch away, so she continued, gently exploring his skin first, mapping out every new scar the torture had left on the once flawless surface. Only when she was sure there wasn’t any pain from the wounds left, she gently applied pressure, from his neck down, spreading out from his spine with slowly circling fingertips, with more strength when she found one of these hardened knots under his skin. Those _did_ make him wince and startle, but she knew it would only get worse if she stopped now, so she pressed down harder every time, relentlessly, until the muscles relaxed, and soothed every of these sore spots with a kiss.

Soon enough she had covered the whole area of a marred painting that was his upper back now, pale rough patches of skin that she knew would be numb forever to the touch now, but at least they would not hurt him anymore, and that was what counted. It was only scars. She had worn her own long enough.

 

There was still plenty of him to caress left and she did, covering every inch of his ribcage, his waist, the territory where there were fewer and fewer scars, kneading out every cramp she could find on the way, until he was laying before her completely relaxed. It was the most attractive thing she had seen in a while, and she was a little proud that he had suffered through it so bravely.

He deserved a treat for that.

 

Sitting up straight, she stroked his lower back further south, lightly at first until she heard him gasp, then grabbing him firmly with both hands, the rest of oil on her palms slippery and warm. His half surprised, half aroused groan encouraged her to continue her firmly massaging movements, just at a very different region this time. “Let's get to the fun part of a back rub.” She saw him turn his head back, straining all those muscles she’d just brought to release, and quickly bent down to him to catch his sight.

 

His eyes were uncertain but filled with longing. The words on his lips that wouldn’t come were such of confusion, not hesitation. And when she gently shut them with hers, he just nodded and closed his eyes again. They had talked about this. It was her choice, and he trusted her.

 

Still she took it even slower now, dipping her hands into the oil again before gently starting to caress him, his hips, his lower back, the back of his muscular thighs, before she started massaging his flesh again, her thumbs sliding between his cheeks casually, more oil dripping onto that hidden place.

 

By now he was more restless than ever, his hips twitching as he was trying to deal with the growing arousal in his loins, and when she carefully started running two fingertips over that small opening, his hands tightened on the covers. “ _Elisabeth_ …”

 

“Use your words”, she reminded him, without pulling her hand back. “I want to make you feel good, and the second you’re telling me you’re not, I’m stopping. But I’m not as good as you are with that whole mind-reading thing yet, especially when frankly …” She blushed a little and shifted her weight to his left leg, slowly rubbing her crotch along his skin, so he would feel how wet she was, how much it excited her, getting to know his body like that. It really was no wonder he was so addicted to it. “… I am a little distracted. So … do you want me to stop?”

 

“You are incredible.” He mumbled it more into the pillow than to her, but she heard it anyway, and the thick, rough tone of lust in his voice as well. “When have I _ever_ stopped you from anything, my queen?”

 

That was good enough of an answer for her. With another dollop of oil spread on her fingers, she gently started probing him, with the same care that he’d touched her with in their first night. When finally she slipped a first finger inside his warmth, she could feel him tighten up for a moment before he completely relaxed, and a soft moan came from his lips. It encouraged her to continue, to slowly thrust into him, deeper, until she suddenly felt him jerk, saw him throw his head back and the moan of arousal was a lot louder. For a moment, she was startled, but then she felt the rougher patch of skin her fingertip was brushing over, and when she did it again, he thrust his hips back against her for the first time. She remembered that one spot inside of her that he’d shown her just this other morning, and understood, a lascivious smile spreading on her lips. “Right there?” It really wasn’t a question.

 

When he answered anyway, it was a choked plea, colored by many long minutes of indirect stimulation. Small glistening drops of sweat mixed with the rest of oil on his back. “More …”

 

She was more than happy to oblige, focusing her tentative movements mostly on that point now while carefully stretching him with another shy fingertip, not actually sure if it was that what “more” meant in his language. It obviously was because he opened up for her instantly. He was really starting to push back against her now, soon enough they’d found into a rhythm, and the familiar scent of his fluids started to fill the room from the place under him he kept grinding into.

Finally she couldn’t stand watching it any longer and reached there with her free hand. He was as hard in her palm as he usually only grew when he’d entered her and was nearing orgasm. A few quick strokes while she was still stimulating that one secret spot inside of him …

 

This time it was a scream of pleasure on his lips. His back arched like a spring and he came all over her, hard, long. He was still shaking when she carefully pulled back, quickly wiped her hand in the covers and then laid down beside him, gently caressing up and down his back. When he finally turned to his side to face her, there was still an absent but very content and somehow proud look in his eyes. His kiss was unbelievably tender. “I should remember more often that you learn faster than anyone can teach you.”

 

She sighed a small breath of relief. So it had been the right instinct, and she had a funny feeling, there was so much more to these kind of techniques that she could make him happy with, in good time. “So … is that what you do when you are … with men?”

 

“It’s usually how it starts.” Tired as he looked now, he seemed to remember that she’d been quite turned on before and let his hand wander even while he was talking, teasing her nipples into hardness before he gently reached between her legs, casually caressing her wet lips, teasing her clit, all without even a quiver in his voice. He had his control back, and it was sexier than it should be. “Men also enjoy pleasuring each other with their mouths a lot. And then there’s the penetration act, of course.”

 

She bit her lip, moaning, when he accompanied his words with his actions, slipping into her with two fingers, thrusting into her just as casually, until she had to grab his shoulder to hold on to, gasping and groaning. It wasn’t just his skilled movements that made her ride his hand, hard, in seconds, but also imagining him on the receiving end of this, only with a very different body part involved. “I’m afraid that’s something I won’t be able to help out with.” When she saw the wolfish grin on his lips, she realized once more how much she really had to learn.

 

“Patience, my queen”, he whispered to her huskily before bending down to suck one of her nipples into his mouth while a third finger entered her and orgasm washed over her, for now clearing her mind of all worries and fantasies.


End file.
